A sharp stab and twist of the knife almost doubles me over. I crunch, ever so slightly wincing while still maintaining the mask I’ve trained myself to use to keep the miserable feelings subtle. Either people care too much about your pain and you have to endure false pity while they tell you you’re strong, a warrior, and handling things with grace, unconsciously heaping pressure to maintain composure to meet their expectations, or they think you have a low tolerance and need you to quiet your drama queen tendencies.
Either reaction gets old real fast, and both recenter and detract from the validity of my own pain. Sometimes I want the freedom to be and not be strong or a warrior, and I sure as hell don’t want to be graceful.
Liam’s brow furrows. “Come inside, Peaches.”
“I’m fine.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand. “Your concern here is not needed.”
“Glad to hear it. But seriously, get your stubborn ass into the apartment so we can talk about whatever it is you do need.”
I press down on the pain radiating to my side. “Don’t suppose there’s a chance you two have any tea, do you?”
Liam mercifully pulls his shirt on, sheathing his rippling muscles and providing me with some much-needed cloud cover. “We do, actually. You can teach me how to use the electric kettle the apartment came with?”
I nod, pivoting back up the stairs. My knee buckles with the movement, the spasming muscles not appreciating the sudden twisting motion. I stumble backward. My foot misses the edge of the stair, and I collapse onto a landing. The fall breaks whatever spirit I have left, and I scrunch up against the wall as a giant uncontrollable sob floods out of me.
Everything is one big giant clusterfuck, and I’m using too much of my energy controlling my pain to handle any of this.
“Shit, O’Shea. You okay?” Soft steps pad down the stairs.
A deep heaviness turns my limbs to lead and I bury my head in my hands. “Just leave me alone. I’m fine.”
Liam sighs, and a warm, firm hand grips under my legs as a strong arm gathers my back and lifts me up off the ground. I wrap my hand around his neck, burying my head into his chest. My pride is thoroughly decimated anyway.
“It’s okay. Let it out. I’ve got you.”
“Oh god, I must look awful if you’re being this nice to me.”
There’s a stilted breath from him before he responds, “Not any more so than usual.”
“Jerkface.”
“Pain in my ass,” he whispers into my neck, a smile lacing his words.
“I’m the pain in the ass?” I hiccup. “Seriously? You’re so firmly lodged up there.”
“You thought I was a ray of sunshine last week.”
I snort, the sobs quieting to a trickle. “I plead head wound.”
“Speaking of which.” He pads up another step. “I know you get all weak-kneed when you’re around me, Peaches, but I’d appreciate it if you could quit falling all the time. I have fragile nerves.”
I lift my head and peer at him. “And I’m affecting them?”
“You are. I was a nervous wreck after you ran into that pole.”
“Oh, poor baby, that must have been harrowing for you.”
“Traumatic. So if you could get your shit together, that’d be great.”
A weird mix of laughter and crying shakes my chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it. The will to live just leaves my body when you’re around.”
He pushes the door wide with his foot. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hmm. Absolute soul sucker.” The tremors slow as a soft giggle bubbles out of me. I bury into his neck. Sandalwood enters my bloodstream and sends shockwaves spiraling through my body.
“You’re awfully cheeky for somebody in such a vulnerable position.” He fumbles with his grasp, and I shriek.
“You wouldn’t drop me.”
